


Her fears and her doubts

by ShortcakeCrow



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Hope's Peak Academy, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Romance, Unrequited Love, i was gonna write a fic abt angie but then this happened, possible v3 spoilers for ftes but nothing major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 15:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortcakeCrow/pseuds/ShortcakeCrow
Summary: It’s hard, being Yumeno Himiko, and nobody else understands.





	Her fears and her doubts

It’s hard, being Yumeno Himiko. You wake up late in the day, have the late breakfast that Toujou has prepared ahead of time - she scolds you each day for being late, but you don’t pay her too much mind as you heat up your meal once again with the microwave -, arrive late to class - and doze off to the sound of whichever teacher trying to cram more and more knowledge into your head -, have late lunch - because of said dozing off -, do late homework - or perhaps not bother with it at all -, and spend the late night practicing your magic. You always go to sleep early, though - you can’t afford to use too much of your mana.

It’s hard, being Yumeno Himiko. Your magic is amazing, of course, but you have expectations to exceed that you really should’ve stopped concerning yourself with a long time ago - except you can’t, because the disappointed and underwhelmed faces from past failures still haunt you to this very day -, and working hard is… well, difficult.

It’s hard, being Yumeno Himiko. Chabashira looks up to you - she comes to talk to you incredibly often, which is extremely bothersome, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. She talks to you about aikido, she talks to you about magic, about the TV show that was on last night, about the flower she saw this morning that reminded her of you, about the wonderful sweet shop she found a few streets away, and you listen to most of it, only tuning her out occasionally.

It’s hard, being Yumeno Himiko, and nobody else understands.

* * *

 

You’ve been talking more with Angie lately, although it’s mostly her speaking and you listening with the occasional hum or nod. She tells you about her God and about her home, and she shows you sketches that are either so beautiful they take your breath away, or are some kind of abstract visual metaphor that you really can’t be bothered to decrypt. You compliment her each time anyway.

Chabashira doesn’t look very happy, but you can’t tell why, and you don’t ask her, because you know you won’t be any help.

Your magic would be more than enough, but you must conserve your energy, so really, in the end, all you can do is send her a questioning glance every once in a while, praying to the God Angie loves oh so much in hopes that it’ll solve your problems somehow.

Angie takes note of it sooner or later - what ‘it’ is, you’re not really sure yourself either. You feel strange, and your chest aches just a little bit more with each passing day, and you start sleeping for longer and longer until one day Ouma picks the lock on your door and drags you out of bed to have breakfast with everyone else.

Your eyes don’t meet Chabashira’s.

Your chest feels heavy, and it’s kind of like the pain when you think about your master, but it’s also kind of not.

Angie reaches for your hand under the table, and she giggles at something Ouma just said as she intertwines her fingers with yours, a comforting warmth behind the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. You find yourself leaning into the embrace she gives you once it’s just you two alone, and she rubs your back, murmuring reassurances and prayers right by your ear, her breath grazing you just barely.

* * *

 

Whenever you’re sad, Angie comforts you.

It starts with simple gestures - small pats and rubs on the back as she wraps her arms around you -, then she starts stroking your hair, your cheeks, and before you know it, you receive a kiss on the cheek. It leaves a strange kind of tingle behind, and you hide behind your hat to save some of your dignity.

The kisses gradually happen more and more often, and they become less and less private. She kisses your cheeks, your hands, your forehead, and sometimes even your lips - you’re not sure if it’s her first kiss because of how eager she always seems, but it _is_ yours -, and each time Chabashira catches you like that, her frown deepens, and she seems just a little more discouraged.

She doesn’t bother you as often anymore, but the empty void she leaves behind makes you wonder if it really was that troublesome in the first place.

* * *

 

She stops talking to you, and it _hurts_ , and you think Angie can tell.

The kisses don’t make your heart flutter anymore - you’re not even sure if they ever truly did -, the hugs don’t make you feel warm, and her God is just a foreign concept that you’re too weak to even try to grasp. You feel detached, like you’re never really present, and you start oversleeping again despite Toujou’s lectures.

Eating is a chore, showering is a chore, studying is a chore. You do it anyway because you’re used to this routine already and breaking it would end with more trouble than its worth, but each day leaves you more and more tired until you barely have enough energy to get out of bed in the morning. Angie tries to help, of course, and you should be grateful for how patient she’d been with you, but all you feel is guilt, and it slowly eats you up from inside until you just want to curl up into a tiny ball and never move again.

The kisses and the hugs stop, and it makes you feel a little less horrible about everything; you finally gather up enough courage to apologise to Angie. She forgives you because her God told her to do so, and you receive one last hug before she lets you go on your way and returns to the sculpture she’d been working on.

You come across Chabashira in the hallway. She seems weirdly rigid, and you can tell part of her wants to avoid you from the subtle way she speeds up as soon as she spots you. You almost let her walk past you before you grab onto one of her sleeves to stop her in her tracks, speaking up in a voice that’s a bit more quiet than usual.

You want to spend more time with her, and you can tell she wants the same.

* * *

 

The knot in your stomach tightens.

Even though Angie has been talking to you more and more rarely, Chabashira still seemed sad somehow, and you wanted to cheer her up so, so, so much - you thought your magic would do the trick, but it didn’t. Something went wrong. Something went wrong, and it was all your fault, and all the guilt and shame is incredibly heavy and all you can do is lie in bed all day long, your face buried in the mattress.

Your magic is supposed to make people smile, but it only ended up causing disappointment again. Your master would surely be ashamed if he could see you right now.

There’s a knock on your door, and your movements are sluggish and almost as robotic as Kiibo’s as you get up to open it.

It’s Chabashira.

She seems concerned - she’s always been the straightforward type, so it doesn’t take long for her to confirm your theory -, but when she asks you if there’s something wrong, you don’t know what to answer. She saw you fail your magic show, and she tried to comfort you before you ran off, but you know there’s no way she could’ve meant anything she said.

You feel horrible.

You feel the weight of a hand on the top of your head before you realise she’s petting you, and you find yourself leaning into the touch, wishing for more.

You’re so selfish, Yumeno Himiko…

She asks you again, and you speak before you can stop yourself, the words spilling out one after another. You’re barely even aware of what you’re saying - you’re sure it’s not coherent at all -, but it’s littered with apologies and excuses, and tears start welling up in your eyes as your voice trembles a little.

You feel her arms around you, and it reminds you of when your mother used to hug you as you cried with all your heart, and a little bit of the hug Angie would always give you when she wanted you to crack a smile.

The first sob rocks your entire body, and the tears drip down your cheeks one after another as you abandon all self-control, burying your face in her chest. All the pent up emotions burst out at once, and it’s _ugly_ , but even though you’re wailing like a newborn, she doesn’t seem to mind. She strokes your hair as she holds you close, and while her voice is still a tad too loud, somehow it doesn’t bother you.

She’s clumsy at comforting people, but the hug feels warmer than any of the other ones you’ve been given before.

**Author's Note:**

> ive been playing v3 and im in the mood to write drabbles again :,)) someone get me out of this hell  
> what the fuck?? is this writing style idk man


End file.
